The Reverend Pamela P. Snare
July 28, 2002
(Proper 12, Year A)

“We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose…If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his only Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else?”

Today’s gospel parables are an interesting combination. The first four are really two matched sets. One pair, the parables of the mustard seed and the leaven, illustrate a similar and related point, as does the second pair, the parable of the treasure hidden in the field and the pearl of great price.

For years, I envisioned the mustard seed in our first parable as one of those yellow seeds enclosed in glass that were popular as necklaces in the 1960’s. They are not very small seeds. But I learned later that the Palestinian mustard seed is a tiny, black seed, no larger than the head of a pin. It is so small that it is difficult to pick up only one at a time. The mustard “tree” is actually a shrub that grows to a height of eight to ten feet.

The phrase in this parable about the birds of the air nesting in its branches is a scriptural allusion. In the book of Daniel (chapter 4), Daniel interprets King Nebuchadnezzer’s dream about a great tree with beautiful foliage and abundant fruit. Animals rest in its shade, birds nest in its branches, and it provides food for all living things. The tree is a metaphor for Nebuchadnezzer’s kingdom which encompasses and provides for a great number of diverse peoples. In the prophet Ezekiel (chapter 17), God likens his kingdom to a tree which will host every kind of bird, nesting in its branches, representing again, the peoples of the earth. And let us not forget the messianic prophecy of Isaiah (11:1) which likens God’s ideal servant to a tree: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of its roots.” This passage is the origin of the tree of Jesse, or Jesse tree, from which the Messiah will come.

Thus, the tree in this parable is a simile for Christ. He is the one who will provide rest, shade, and nourishment for all the peoples of the earth. He is the one in whom all peoples of the earth will find a home—the hospitality of God. The astonishing notion is that the power for such growth and breadth as the mustard tree is present, yet all but hidden, in the tininess of the seed. As the German theologian, Gunther Bornkamm notes regarding this parable, “God’s kingdom comes in concealment…” From a poor, itinerant rabbi in a remote corner of first century Palestine, a handful of ordinary, uneducated men, and a following which includes tax collectors, prostitutes, lepers, women, and children, blossoms a worldwide movement and fellowship which we know as the Christian Church. Who would/could have guessed? In theological terms, we call this the scandal of God’s particularity, or the scandal of the Incarnation. As surely as God’s power hidden in a mustard seed produces an eight to ten foot shrub, attracting birds of all species, just as surely is God’s power working in hidden ways to grow his kingdom to his desired end, the reconciliation of all peoples in Christ, of which the Church is a sacrament and a sign.

The parable of the yeast illustrates this same astonishing mystery. Just as yeast, hidden in dough, permeates the entire mass, and works silently and secretly until it has more than doubled in volume, so does God permeate human lives and human history, often working silently and secretly, doubling, tripling, and quadrupling the effects of his presence and the accomplishment of his purpose.

“We know that all things work together for good for those who love God…”

The parables of the mustard seed and the leaven are a sort of meditation on the providence of God. They suggest to us that God’s power and God’s working are often hidden, silent, and secret to us, invisible to our eyes, imperceptible to our discernment, but present and active as surely as yeast leavens dough and mustard seeds grow into towering shrubs.

This fact of God’s constant, ineffable, guiding power and work is one of the most difficult things for us to grasp, and above all to trust. It is difficult in part, I think, because we cannot always discern it -- it is sometimes hidden from us; in part because we are not always aware of it -- we become distracted and forget to be attentive to it; in part because if the power were ours, we think that we would use it differently, and perhaps in a better way, or at least one more pleasing to us.

The Cistercian monk, Michael Casey, in his book, Toward God, offers an apt description of this constant working of God’s power to bring about his purposes: “There is a providence of God active in the life of every person. This is no blueprint which once settled cannot be changed. It is a patient, paternal, infinitely loving willingness to provide a way from wherever we are to our Father’s house. If we are off course or going backward or completely stationary a way can still be plotted. There is always a way…It would be wrong to imagine God as resentful or sullen about having to keep updating our routes back. In fact, I would not be surprised if the challenge of ensnaring particularly rebellious human wills appealed to the Creator’s sense of play…What matters is arriving at [our] destination, and the only way to accomplish it is to keep moving, undeterred by mistakes and mishaps—whether these come from one’s own will, from powerful forces within, or from the outside. It is to be expected that we will veer away from the theoretically correct course.”

God is inexorable in seeking us and finding us, even using our mistakes and our sins to bring us and others back to himself. He is constantly working out his purpose in our lives and the life of the world, regardless of the stumbling blocks and set backs we put in his way. God can and does use ours and others’ mistakes and false steps to re-route us and others back onto the right path or the faithful path. This is a particularly valuable lesson for preachers. For, as you well know, our wanderings in words and mishaps with preaching the gospel are great and frequent. But we have to learn to trust that in spite of constraints of time and intelligence, mental and physical energy, God can and does use us every now and again, to speak his Word to his people.

“We know that all things work together for good for those who love God…”

The twin parables of the treasure hidden in the field and the pearl of great price are often interpreted as stories which emphasize the cost of following Christ, the renunciation and self-sacrifice required in the life of discipleship. Both the man who buys the field and the merchant who buys the pearl sell all that they have in order to acquire these two items of surpassing worth and beauty. But what is often overlooked in these two parables is the joy of finding the treasure. And it is the joy which motivates these two characters to sacrifice everything else that they have.

Every human life is particular and different, and every journey of faith is particular and different, yet there are common phases and common movements in the life of faith. For all of us, I would imagine, there have been defining moments of the joy of finding God—in the miracle of a child’s birth, in the company of a long-time and loyal friend, in the faithful love of a spouse, on retreat, in prayer, at church, in working with the poor, the underprivileged, or the sick. In those moments of joy, when we are convinced beyond a doubt of God’s love and presence and providence, no sacrifice seems too great, no price too high for our commitment and service to God and his kingdom. In those moments of finding the treasure of God, we are confident that God is working his purpose out, that his hand is active in this world, and that he is guiding us and others every step along the way.

But then, sometimes, something happens. It may be a tragedy which we find inexplicable, it may be exhaustion or fatigue (burnout), or it may simply be the repetition and drudgery of daily tasks and routines; but our joy begins to erode, our confidence to weaken, and our trust to dissolve. We begin to think and feel that the commitment required of us, the sacrifices we are called upon to make are a burden, not a joy. The price for remaining faithful seems too high, and the energy for commitment and sacrifice seem too great.

It is precisely in such burdensome and doubt-filled moments that we most need to recall the times of our joy in finding God. As surely as we have discovered that treasure in that field and that pearl of great price once, we will find it again—or it will find us. It is there all of the time, but sometimes hidden from our view.

The truly difficult dynamic in the life of faith is to learn to trust the ever-present and guiding hand of God’s providence even when it is concealed, hidden, from our eyes. Looking back to those moments when we have been sure of it can strengthen and encourage our commitment and our trust when we don’t see it. God is working his purpose out, in your life and mine, in the life of this parish, and in the life of the world as surely as a tiny mustard seed becomes a ten foot shrub, as surely as a scant teaspoon of yeast leavens a large mass of dough.

“We know that all things work together for good for those who love God…If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his only Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else?”

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